Thursday, December 17, 2015

FORGOTTEN GEM: COLOSSUS OF NEW YORK (1958)

At its
core, The Colossus of New York is another brain movie, one of dozens that
came out in the 1950s. There was Donovan’s Brain, and brains from other planets. There werebrains in jars and tanks, and of course, brains that
wouldn’t die, with the unforgettable Virginia Leith’s head on a tray, hissing
at her scientist boyfriend. The message seemed to be that brains turn bad, and
that’s certainly true of Colossus.

On the
other hand, Eugene Lourie’s 1958 movie has a different feel to it, and not
solely because it was backed by a major studio like Paramount, rather than a
low budget, independent crew. It has its roots in the Frankenstein movies of
the 1930s, with its lumbering, misunderstood creature brought to life in a
laboratory. It’s almost touching in spots, more so than you’d expect from a
movie that was probably pitched as something goofy for the kiddies at the
drive-in. It’s story was by Willis Goldbeck, a writer whose career started in
the silent film era and included everything from cop thrillers to medical
dramas. Perhaps Goldbeck had seen the Frankenstein films in his youth and
wanted to take a crack at the style.

Certainly
the robotic creature, voiced by Ross Martin and played by Ed Wolff, would’ve
been familiar to kid moviegoers of the day, already monster crazy from the old
Universal movies that had been packaged for television as a program called Shock
Theater, not to mention the stuff coming out of Japan and American
International. They might have been thrown for a loop by the robot’s first
decipherable words, though. “You want to help me?” it asks. “Then destroy me!”

One of
the strengths of TheColossus of New York is its simplicity,
which I think is partly due to Goldbeck’s coming from the silent era, when
stories were more primal. There’s a basic premise: can a brain function without
human contact? It asks basic questions: what would the world be like if we
could’ve kept alive the brains of Einstein, Da Vinci, or Galileo? And it features
one of the grand staples of all horror movies: the bringing to life of an automaton.
The waking of the robot is truly chilling, and the one reason that this movie
is still notable. As it begins to stir, we hear crackling and fizzing from
inside its head, like a static-filled radio signal, followed by the eeriest sounds.
The robot voice emerges from the atmospheric murk, unclear at first, but expressing everything
from fear to confusion to anger to disbelief, until releasing a wail of unbridled
anguish. How this must have spooked movie-goers in 1958!

The same
sort of movie made today would be filled with slippery tech talk and faceless
lab assistants pecking at their lap tops. The robot would be sexy, no doubt
voiced by Scarlett Johansson. The scientists would be stylish nerds. Mark
Ruffalo would come along to teach the robot how to dance and make espresso.

In the
tradition of the films that influenced it, Colossus
is tragic. The brain is from an award winning scientist (Martin) who was killed
by a moving truck. The scientist’s father (Otto Kruger), a famous brain
surgeon, saves his son’s brain and asks his other son, an electronics wizard,
to create the robot where the brain can live and carry on its work. The robot exists
in seclusion for a while, but eventually goes for a walk to visit the grave
where his original body is buried. To his surprise, his 9-year-old son is also
visiting the grave. The boy believes the robot is just a friendly giant who
happened to be wandering around in the cemetery. Again, like Frankenstein, there’s a scene where the
behemoth takes the child in his arms. But rather than throwing the boy in a
pond, the pair disappear into the woods, mysteriously. A friendship develops. The
robot says, “Call me daddy.”

The
robot also happens to see that his widowed wife and his brother have started a
relationship of some kind. This gives the robot a chance to destroy some lab
equipment and make some more noise. The automaton develops some other traits,
including the ability to hypnotize people, and a sort of extra sensory
perception. Not surprisingly, he can shoot death rays from his eyes. Do you
think his conniving brother is going to last long?

Visually,
the robot is stunning. Press releases for the movie harped on the mechanical
giant’s costume, describing it as “electronically operated (with) its own
motors and batteries. All told, with flesh and machinery, the character weighs
490 pounds and stands 9 feet, with 4-foot shoulders.”The costume was actually sent out on a
promotional tour, exhibited in theater lobbies around the country. Though
obviously created with a nod to the old Jack Pierce monster makeup, the robot
is unique. He has braces on his legs, as if he’s a gigantic but fragile child,
and enormous gloved hands. The cloak he wears draped over his shoulders gives
him the appearance of someone out of a Greek chorus. His movements are odd. At
times he lumbers like a sleepwalker, but at others he trots jerkily forward. My
bet is that Lourie’s original plan was to have the robot move slowly, but
changed his mind and had certain scenes speeded up. The result, perhaps
accidently, is that the robot’s movements are unpredictable, which makes him
scarier and slightly surreal.

Ed
Wolff, who wore the mechanical man’s costume, was listed at 7’ 4”, and weighed
around 300 pounds. He earned money by putting himself on display in amusement
parks and carnivals, though he also worked as a house painter. He occasionally
took roles in movies, usually playing a costumed monster. One of his first
roles was in a crowd scene for the silent ThePhantom of the Opera. For Colossus, he struggled with the
cumbersome head piece which was wired with batteries and compressed air so it
lighted up. He had to get a haircut to eliminate the friction that kept giving
him shocks to the head. It’s intriguing to know that while the head was
glowing, Wolff may have been suffering inside. (Several extras were also burned
during the film’s climactic fire scene, when the automaton is torching the
United Nations building.)

Producer
William Alland, who already had a string of science fiction classics to his
credit (It Came From Outer Space, The
Creature from the Black Lagoon, This Island Earth, Tarantula, The Deadly Mantis)insisted that Colossus was rooted in fact, telling the press that the film “bears
out the theory that the human mind, divorced from the sense of pain and
mortality, would lose all decency and compassion.” Alland had other, more
altruistic plans for his sci-fi features, namely, to glamorize the American
scientist.“I believe films can help
show how important and exciting science can be,” he said. Despite Alland’s
ambition, the movie did middling business. The Schenectady Gazette, in line
with most reviewers of the day, called it “a rather standard science fiction
offering.” Critic Bob Smith dismissed it as “just another Frankenstein yarn
which turns out to be more of an anti-science picture.” Colossus ended up as the bottom side of double bills, usually
paired with Jerry Lewis’ Rock-a-bye Baby,
and King Creole, starring that other
Paramount colossus, Elvis Presley.

Ultimately,
despite its mechanical man, the film lacks doesn’t have the enchanting
backdrops to capture the imagination. The laboratory feels more like the office
of a HAM radio enthusiast, and New York is a strange place to set a movie of
this type. The East River and the Brooklyn Bridge look magnificent but odd, as
opposed to the swamps and alien terrain of Alland’s other great pictures. Manhattan
is a breeding ground for many things, but not robots. And audiences may not
have wanted to get behind this particular robot, who wasn’t exactly a
misunderstood monster wishing for a friend or a bride. In fact, he’s a bit of a
fascist, wishing to “eliminate the idealists,” and “do away with human trash.”
Rather than use his mind to help the poor, he decides it's
"simpler and wiser to get rid of them."

The
robot’s assault on the United Nations building is, again, reminiscent of Frankenstein, and even King Kong, but the emotion isn’t there,
not even when the robot tumbles to his doom. Kruger only shrugs and says,
“Without a soul, we’re nothing but monsters.” But even this disappointing climax
offers something to intrigue, namely, a small dark puddle forming under the
fallen robot’s head. Is it blood? Robot fluid? Something leaking from his
brain?

Alland
took the brunt of blame for the film’s lack of success, though the main thing
that hurt it was timing. There was a glut of horror and sci-fi titles that year,
and ticket buyers may have felt saturated. Sensing the monster craze was
ebbing, Alland moved on to other genres, including teen flicks and westerns. Lourie
would direct two more creature features (The
Giant Behemoth, andGorgo) and eventually return to his first
love, art direction, working for directors ranging from Sam Fuller to Clint
Eastwood.

The Colossus of New York remains an interesting enigma, a
strange hitching of genres that doesn’t quite work, yet fascinates. I haven’t
even mentioned the haunting piano score by Van Cleave, or the beautiful opening
credits that appear to shimmer out of New York harbor, or the fact that it was
all filmed not in New York but on the Paramount lot. Many things stand out, but
what I tend to remember is that gripping scene where the mechanical man comes
alive, howling at the unbearable pain of being reborn.

About Me

I write for various magazines, including the great CINEMA RETRO, and the Film Noir Foundation's official magazine, Noir City. Check them out if you love movies.

I currently serve as the editorial consultant for thefilmdetective.tv, a movie streaming service that does everything from restoring old films to selling a vast collection of DVDs. Download our classic movie app!

Along with movie and arts coverage, I've written about boxing for The Ring, and ESPN.com; I've written true crime stories for the short-lived HUB; and I occasionally publish historical tales in Wild West magazine. I've also written for a bunch of newspapers in the Boston area.

THIS DAZZLING TIME is where you'll find a bit of everything. I appreciate having your attention for a moment or two.